


To Be Human

by redandblueispurple



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial of Feelings, Depressed Oikawa Tooru, Emotionally Repressed, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, First Love, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Heartache, High School, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, I hate it here, Identity Issues, Injury, Iwaizumi Hajime is a Good Friend, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mutual Pining, Oblivious Iwaizumi Hajime, Oikawa Tooru is Bad at Feelings, Oikawa Tooru is a Mess, Oikawa Tooru's Knee Injury, POV Third Person, Permanent Injury, Pining, Pining Iwaizumi Hajime, Pining Oikawa Tooru, Protective Iwaizumi Hajime, Sad Oikawa Tooru, Sad with a Happy Ending, School Festivals, School Project, Swearing, but they are cowards, repressed homophobia, they both kinda know, who would rather suffer in silent pining than talk about scary feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26945530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redandblueispurple/pseuds/redandblueispurple
Summary: "My unhappiness stemmed entirely from my own vices, and I had no way of fighting anybody." -No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai.Considered one of the greatest pieces of Japanese literature, Tooru has never read No Longer Human. It was the sort of book everyone knew the basic plot of, but he never brought himself to finish it.Tooru had no interest in possibly seeing himself in such a miserable character.But maybe he doesn't have to be like that. Hajime knows that he will never look at Tooru and see an outcast.Tooru is beautifully, tragically, irrefutably human.Hajime will always see Tooru as an intoxicating contradiction of imperfection and magnificence. Through all of his flaws, his insecurities and vices, Hajime will never see anything less.And maybe, just maybe, one day Tooru will see it too.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Kudos: 25





	To Be Human

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another very self indulgent fic as I have no self control. Hope someone out there likes it!  
> It's a bit different than how I'm used to writing, but I kinda like it! 
> 
> Also side note, No Longer Human by Osamu Dazai is a brilliant book and is utterly heart-wrenching. His other books are also very good! The chapter titles of this fic are all titles of books by Osamu Dazai. The quotes used in this fic belong completely to No Longer Human or The Setting Sun, it will be obvious which I'm talking about because it'll be specified in the same line or soon thereafter.

**"All I feel are the assaults of apprehension and terror at the thought that I am the only one who is entirely unlike the rest."**

These words glared at Tooru from their page, taunting him. He was meant to be reading, but there's a reason he'd never finished this book.

"No Longer Human" by Osamu Dazai is one of the most celebrated pieces of Japanese literature, and Tooru's least favorite book. Most everyone reads it at some point in their school career because it's one of the standard materials. Yet Tooru never finished it. He almost did—in fact, he actually liked the book at first—but then the teacher who'd assigned it compared Tooru to the main character. After that, he refused to read any more. He knew enough about the book in general to fake his way through the assignment. He didn't want to know what would drive his teacher to compare him to such an abysmal character, so he simply didn't read it.

Now, however, Tooru had no choice. He had a year-long assignment over both Osamu Dazai and his book, and no one else in his class was assigned that topic. Now the book lay open on his desk, and Tooru glared at it as though he expected it to cease to exist.

The words on the page haunted him, their meaning taking hold of his throat like a garroter waiting for his signal.

"Glaring at the book won't make the words go away, Oikawa," a familiar voice filled Tooru's room, evicting the weight which had previously settled.

"I'm too pretty for these big words, Iwa-Chan," Tooru chided, clearing his throat after hearing how his voice wavered. "Honestly, you should probably do it for me. Captains can't be troubled with such menial tasks."

Hajime responded with a snort, stepping forward and looking over Tooru's shoulder at the book. "I have sometimes thought that I have been burdened with a pack of ten misfortunes, any one of which, if borne by my neighbor, would be enough to make a murderer of him." He read aloud, resting a hand between Tooru's shoulder-blades. "I love that book. You'd think the narrator had to be friends with someone like you to think something like that." Hajime snickered before reaching over and closing the book—only after marking Tooru's place, of course.

"So mean, Iwa-Chan. I am a delight to be friends with, and you know it." Tooru took off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes before pulling the book closer.

Hajime took the book away from Tooru, "If you say so, come on, your mom said dinner's ready. You can read more once you've eaten since you've obviously forgotten about the tickets you bought for tonight." Hajime tugged at a stray lock of hair on the back of Tooru's head before pulling his hand away, burying it instead in his pocket.

Tooru grins as he's reminded of the movie he'd been waiting to see; all thoughts of Osamu Dazai pushed far back into the depths of his brain. "Absolutely not, you're not getting out of this that easily, Iwa-Chan," Tooru chirped as he stood up, grabbing Hajime's wrist to start out the door.

"Yeah," Hajime started, the corner of his mouth twitching up, "Didn't think so."

Just before they got to the bottom of the stairs, Tooru dropped Hajime's wrist and clapped his hands together with a content sigh. "I don't know what you're putting in that pot, but it smells amazing." Tooru crossed over and leaned against the counter, grinning at his mother.

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Tooru. You're still cleaning out the attic this weekend." His mother, Sara, teased before glancing over at Hajime with an amused smile as Tooru groaned beside her. "If you're nice, maybe Iwaizumi will be kind enough to help you."

"Crappykawa being nice, imagine." Hajime snorts, raising an eyebrow at Tooru when he made a noise of protest. "Can you really tell me I'm wrong?"

"Yes, actually," Tooru huffed, "I am incredibly nice, for your information. That's why the girls come to watch me play and not you, Iwa-Chan. Well, that amongst other reasons," Tooru wiggled his eyebrows and looked over at his mother, holding a finger over his eyebrows to connect them. "I'm Iwa-Chan, and I'm emotionally unavailable with no sense of style." He deepened his voice to mock Hajime, and Tooru's mother, in turn, tried to hold in her laughter.

"God, your personality is so awful." But Hajime was laughing too, even as he complained, even as he shoved Tooru.

"You love me, Iwa-Chan. Your life would be so dull without me, you'd probably sit alone in your room all day with nothing to do."

"Love is a strong word, I tolerate you."

Further argument was prevented by Tooru's mother as she stepped in between them, handing them each a bowl. "You boys stop bickering and come eat, you too, Tooru. You're getting thin."

The two gladly complied, filling their bowls and going to sit down. Tooru's father came home soon after to join them; Tooru's sister and nephew were eating out for the night, so it was just the four of them.

Tooru couldn't help but think as he ate how lucky it was that he felt hungry. The narrator of that dreaded book doesn't feel hunger. That's one of the reasons he thinks he's not normal, but Tooru gets hungry. He keeps telling himself that as he eats, with every bite, the thought echoes through his mind.

The food slowly lost its flavor as this thought persisted.

Tooru was staring blankly at the table, mindlessly taking bites of the food put in front of him when Hajime bumped their knees together. He blinked and looked over at Hajime for an explanation but, he was deep in conversation with Tooru's mother–something about his classes. Hajime cut his eyes to the side to glance at Tooru, nudging him again underneath the table before returning his full attention to Sara.

There's another thing, Tooru thought, that marked him as different from the main character of No Longer Human. Ōba Yōzō never had an Iwa-Chan. He smiles at that thought; it was an argument much more defensible than hunger. Tooru doesn't think humanity is described by hunger; so many other species feel so many different manifestations of hunger.

But only humans have Iwa-Chans.

Once they finished eating, Tooru and Hajime walked to the bus stop together, the silence only breaking when Hajime cleared his throat to speak. "What were you thinking back there? I've never known you to shut up for that long."

Tooru pasted on his signature grin. "Aww, I knew you had a heart somewhere in there! Who needs moms with friends like you, Iwa-Chan?"

"Shut up, Shittykawa," Hajime shoved his friend with a huff, "Suffer in silence, then." He let the new silence stretch on until they got to the bus station, then spoke up again without looking at Tooru. "Talk to me about it–whatever _it_ is–whenever you're ready."

To tell Hajime about it, Tooru found himself thinking, he'd have to figure it out first. Why should Hajime know what's bothering Tooru before Tooru knew? To be completely accurate, Tooru supposed he did know what was bothering him. But, he also knew that if he told Hajime, he'd be faced with another question; _'why?'_ And that was a question Tooru wasn't quite ready to address.

He wondered how he'd even go about telling Hajime, or anyone else for that matter, what was making him feel this–for lack of a better word–wrong. How do you tell someone that you fear you're not "normal"? How do you put into words how a simple book makes you question everything about yourself?

Instead of voicing any of this, Tooru just swallowed dryly and gave a curt nod of his head. After a few moments, he was smiling once again, strained as it may be, and he was going on about how great he thinks the movie will be.

☀︎︎

Maybe, Tooru thought, pain was what makes a human. This aching, which planted its roots in Tooru's knee and grew to envelop his entire body, perhaps that is what makes him human. To be human, perhaps, is the hollow feeling which resides deep in Tooru's bones at the hours when he has nothing but his thoughts.

Then again, probably not. Ōba Yōzō felt pain. He felt that same hollowness, that same ache entangled itself in his mind. Tooru decided not to think too long about that. It was just another thought to tuck away with the rest of the unwanted feelings. Above the box labeled "Hajime" and to the right of "plans for the future."

Maybe heartbreak is human. Tooru alone in the gym two hours after practice ended–long after his lungs begin to burn and long after his knee screams in protest at the strain–maybe that's human. The incident that led to his extra hours of practice–Tooru's smile that didn't quite reach his eyes when yet another girl breaks up with him, perhaps that's human. How he'd been more upset over being broken up with again than losing her, how that fact made it worse. The fear that rested in his eyes and trembled through his fists as he told her that he understood is probably human.

Telling the girl that he understood when he really didn't is definitely human.

But really, Tooru thought, none of that humanity counts. Humans don't work themselves until they vomit, then continue as though nothing happened. So what did that make Tooru?

☀︎︎

"Oikawa, wake up."

Tooru groaned and rolled over on his side, now facing the wall. "Go away, Iwa. Friday is canceled."

Hajime snorts and flicks Tooru's arm, "It's Saturday, dumbass. Come on, get up."

"No." Tooru hummed and looked over his shoulder at Hajime, "It's like- ass o'clock," he mumbled, sleep slurring his words.

"I'm not just gonna sit around and wait for you to wake up on your own. We're meeting Hanamaki and Matsukawa this afternoon, and I very graciously agreed to help you clean out the attic before we leave." A familiar mixture of irritation and fondness dripped from Hajime's voice, a complete contradiction of the scowl on his face.

"You don't have to stand around and wait, just lay down with me. It's too early to go up in the attic, if you wake up the ghosts, they'll be grumpy like you." Tooru was already close to falling back asleep, incoherence slowly worming its way into his speech. "So we have to sleep until then, lay down with me and sleep until the ghosts wake up, they'll be grumpy, Iwa-Chan."

Tooru's eyes were still closed, but he could tell by Hajime's sigh and the dip in his bed that he'd given in. Pleased with himself, Tooru rolled over to face Hajime and gave him part of the blanket before falling back asleep.

❂

Hajime was asleep when Tooru woke up. Their legs were intertwined, one of Hajime's arms rested on Tooru's hip, Tooru's head laid against Hajime's chest, and one of his arms wrapped around Hajime's torso. Tooru stayed still for a few moments, listening to Hajime's heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. After a bit, though, Tooru's neck started to get stiff. He's always been taller than Hajime, and the position they'd been laying in required Tooru to be curled up tighter than his joints were willing to tolerate.

Once he'd pulled away–not enough to wake up Hajime, just enough to relieve his neck of the strain–Tooru studied Hajime's resting face. He was much more relaxed than when he's awake, none of the usual tension evident through his features. Every now and then, the corner of Hajime's mouth would twitch up, and he'd move the hand that rested on Tooru; not much, just a swipe of his thumb or a slide in some direction.

Tooru didn't often get the chance to just look at Hajime, since the two were always moving around ever since they were children. There's no time to stop and look whenever you're hunting for bugs, saving the world from invading aliens, trying out for the volleyball team, discussing random girls, or practicing for upcoming games. But every now and then, when the two are having late-night discussions about the universe or when Tooru can't sleep, he gets the chance to just sit and look at Hajime. Every time he does, something's changed. A new freckle, a pimple he'd later ask to pop, some new scar from running into a corner, there's always something. This time it was a freckle.

The new freckle was faint, and Tooru wouldn't have seen it if he'd not been looking intently. It was on the bridge of Hajime's nose. He didn't have many freckles, but Tooru liked the ones he did have. They dotted him in random places, a couple on his face, one here and there on his arms and legs. Tooru liked to count the ones on Hajime's face. (Including this new one, there were now seventeen.) He hesitantly pulled his arm away from around Hajime's torso, making sure he didn't wake his friend before he reached up and pressed a finger to the new freckle. He touched a different finger to another one nearby, then carefully dragged his hand across to touch the freckles on Hajime's jaw. He pointedly ignored the intimacy of the moment, not wanting to overthink everything again.

Tooru slid his hand up and ran it through Hajime's hair; the curls left natural while he was still in the safety of Tooru's room. Before they go, Hajime will use Tooru's bathroom to style his hair. With a small smile, Tooru trails his hand back down to trace the freckles on Hajime's neck. Once he's counted each freckle (23 including the freckles on his neck, 24 including the one just below his throat.) He rests his palm on Hajime's face. His pinky and ring fingers curl around the hair that comes down in front of Hajime's ear. Tooru's middle and forefinger rest on his temple, and his thumb swipes across Hajime's cheekbone.

Hajime lets out a low hum in his sleep and leans into Tooru's palm, eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes moved beneath his eyelids. Tooru's breath catches in his throat as he hurriedly retracts his hand. He carefully untangled their legs and moved Hajime's arm before getting out of bed and going into the bathroom.

Cold water stung Tooru's face, his trembling hands moving from the faucet to grip the edge of the bathroom counter. He raised his eyes up to look at his reflection, his stomach twisting into knots as he dragged his gaze across his features. Humans don't have such sharp edges. Humans don't over-analyze every situation until even the most simple thing turns weird.

Normal humans don't look at their best friends like that in the first place. Normal boys don't cuddle with other boys after a certain age, and Tooru and Hajime are well beyond that age.

Logically, Tooru knew his train of thought was completely unreasonable. But that knowledge didn't stop him from thinking at least Ōba Yōzō only liked women. Though he quickly shut that thought down, telling himself that he only liked girls too. He'd only ever dated girls, he'd only ever kissed girls, so he was normal as well.

His spiral was interrupted when Hajime slid in behind Tooru, resting a hand on the small of his back for support as he squeezed by to get to the other side of the counter. "Why didn't you wake me up?" Hajime asked, letting his hand fall from Tooru's back.

"You looked like you were sleeping well, and I didn't want you to get grouchy at me for waking you." Tooru found his voice, his previous anxieties melting away for the moment. He reaches up to tug at one of Hajime's curls, a teasing grin on his face, "You should leave your hair like this, Iwa-Chan. Curls are in style right now."

Hajime grunts and bats Tooru's hand away from his hair. "Hanamaki and Matsukawa are insufferable enough already. I'm not giving them more material."

"But Iwa-Chan, girls might want to come to see you play too if you let your curls be free!" Tooru turned around and jumped up to sit on the counter, pulling his knees to his chest as he looked up at Hajime. "Let the curls curl, stop with the scary faces, let me pluck your eyebrows, and you'll be _almost_ as good-looking as me. That's the highest compliment I could give someone, Iwa-Chan, be thankful."

"Why do I put up with you?" Hajime laughs and shakes his head, getting started on fixing his hair with the products he'd brought over to Tooru's weeks before.

"Because you'd be miserable without me, obviously."

The corner of Hajime's mouth twitches up into an amused grin. "Yeah." He looks up to make eye contact with Tooru, his small grin growing into a slightly bigger, lazy smile, and his eyes filled with a casual fondness that left an ache in Tooru's chest. "Something like that."

Tooru couldn't help but think how if Yōzō was _that_ miserable and terrified all the time, he must have never had someone look at him the way Hajime had at that moment.

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: This work is also posted to my Wattpad profile, my username is different there than it is on here. If you see it on Wattpad, it's not someone taking it from me nor is it me taking it from them. Wanted to clarify just in case, however if you see it's posted to more than one profile please let me know the names of the profiles.


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